So maybe I was wrong. It was going to work because no one else said a word.
Maybe that macho alpha gig wasn’t such a bad thing. At least it was good to know it had its uses.
Or it had its uses until Smithie spoke up.
Smithie, by the way, owned a strip club. Jet worked there as a waitress during her drama. Jet’s sister was currently the headliner there as a stripper. He was a big black guy gone slightly soft. And strip club owner or not, there was nothing “slightly” about his soft heart.
He was also a nut. Then again, the Rock Chicks, as a collection of nuts, collected their own.
“Are you sayin’ her apartment just exploded not two hours ago and you two are goin’ on a date?” he asked, brows raised, eyes big.
“That’s what I’m saying,” Ren confirmed, then muttered, “We’re done here.” And he made that statement true by dragging me through the Rock Chicks and out the door.
But as I went, I locked eyes with Indy and mouthed, Are we cool?
She just watched me go and gave me nothing.
* * * * *
In Ren’s bathroom, I spritzed with perfume, set it aside and looked at myself in the mirror.
After the Rock Chick Confrontation, I’d spoken with the police in reception at Lee’s office for five minutes, giving them my semi-statement, which was only semi seeing as I had no involvement in the activities, outside my apartment exploding, so I had nothing to give them that The Kevster hadn’t already provided.
Then Ren had guided me to his Jag and we left.
He took me straight to Cherry Creek Mall, valet parked (total class) then dragged me to Nordstrom’s. There, he found a comfortable chair, pulled out his credit card and handed it to me.
“You got an hour. Use it wisely,” he ordered.
I knew what his wisely meant. I couldn’t help but know. My apartment exploded, the only clothes I owned I was wearing. We were going out on our first date, he considered my dresses foreplay, and we were at a mall.
I just didn’t know what the credit card meant.
“Zano, my purse didn’t explode with my pad. I had it with me, and just saying,” I pointed to it on my shoulder, “I still do.”
Ren ignored this and replied, “Text me when you decide on something to tell me where it is. Give them the card so they can ring it up. I’ll go and sign.”
This didn’t address my remark.
“What I’m saying is, I have my own money,” I told him.
“Ally, we’re not arguing about this,” he told me.
I was trying to be confused and not pissed, though, in truth, I was both.
In order to acquire the information needed not to be confused, or pissed, I asked, “Are you saying my emergency provision purchases are on you?”
He looked at the card I was holding aloft and then at me.
However, he didn’t verbalize his answer.
That was still an answer.
So now no confusion and I was stuck with trying not to get pissed.
I pushed the card his way. “I’ve got it.”
“And I said we’re not arguing about this.”